a short story from the perspective of a person suffering from depression
It was pitch-black like midnight--or maybe it was midnight. I couldn’t tell since I carried nothing but a book and water for this journey. This journey that was never-ending and helpful in a way. As I stepped on the wet concrete, I suddenly realized that it had rained a few minutes ago yet I had not noticed. Trivial things like these foreshadowed my future. It was these little things that stopped me from finding myself. I was becoming insane. I constantly thought about these uncommon things--like how the Earth is tilted and we are walking on it without falling off, or how the sun gives us enough sunlight and heat that is somehow efficient for us human beings. I was always searching for the theory behind every simple thing that perhaps did not require much thought.
In no time, I was at the bus stop. I shook myself both physically and mentally--gradually waking up my brain that was peacefully sleeping in my heart. It seemed as if the night wouldn’t end.
I, like the adventurous person I usually am, walked away from the bus stop, somehow thinking I’d get home if I just followed any direction I chose. There’s only so much you could lose when you’ve lost everything. “I have gotten used to this depressing loneliness,” I repeated in my mind. I somehow assured myself that I wasn’t alone when in reality, I actually was.
But at the moment, I wasn’t.
I could hear the hushed sound of the loud, heavy panting behind me. I could picture the person or thing behind me with the aid of eyes, ears, a nose, and my palms--that were shivering terribly, as if my sixth sense was awakening. But I wasn’t shivering because I was afraid, as there was only so much I could lose--my life---when I’ve lost everything. I turned around with hopeless eyes that didn’t expect sympathy nor hope. I searched, as I saw no one but a breeze pass by until I stumbled across a puppy on the ground. I smiled, knowing that there was someone else other than the pup around, but I smiled.
And that is all that counted...that if I didn’t make it home tonight, my last moment was filled with joy and optimism.
I smiled, may it be at the vase of flowers next to me, or a living organism. I watched the action-less sky as I arrived back at the bus stop. Without knowing, life circulated me and I was back to the place where I was initially standing, yet the only difference was that I was now somewhat carefree, radiant, buoyant, ecstatic, and lucky. Lucky to be embracing this life I was living even though it wasn’t perfect. To my surprise though, there was a young woman beside me, listening and singing along to her music vociferously. I smiled at her. She glanced at me, raised her eyebrows, and cautiously smiled back at me.
One smile counts, I guess.